Love is a Battlefield
by MidnightGod
Summary: In a galaxy of death and war, even love is just another battlefield.
1. Chapter 1

He had no name. Names did not matter. Not in this life. Not on this world.

Krieg. The very name had become synonymous to the citizens and leaders of the Imperium as the word for war. If any of them could see the Death World for themselves, they would immediately understand why.

In a time that none who lived could remember, yet all knew of, this world was as beautiful and pristine as the Terra of old. Treachery had seen to the end of those days. Treachery and hundreds of years of nonstop war. Now Krieg paid for their treachery. A penance tithe made in blood of millions.

He was one of them.

It was the third month of training. He as clad head to toe in training gear, different from wargear only in less use and better functionality. He supposed that having a working re-breather was better than nothing.

 _Stop thinking. Focus._

The surface of Krieg was little more than radiated dust, with few standing structure. H had entered one such structure now, the skeleton of a construct that ran through a small mountain. The road that had lead through it was all but dust, but the construct itself was somewhat intact. It wouldn't have mattered though, if he'd considered it serviceable. He'd have still had to enter.

He entered the quiet, dim passageway, his hand fingering his training lasgun. All sounds were distorted through his headgear, such as they were. The distant low howl of nuclear winds, his own bootsteps, the other bootsteps...

He dropped to one knee, activating the lasgun and making himself suddenly still. The steps continued only the fraction of a second but it had been enough to give away the enemy's presence.

His breathing shallowed a bit, loud a was it was in his head gear. His eyes looked all around him. Where could she possibly be...

TZZZHK!

He as hit in the chest with a sudden force, causing him to yelp in surprise and fall to his back, his lasgun falling from this hands. The next thing he saw was a figure almost identical to his laying a the butt of a lasgun to the side of his face mask and placing a boot to his chest, causing him to grunt. He struggled to rise but all that earned him was another hit to the head.

"I win," she said with dry humor, something evident even through the crackling of the re-breather.

He didn't respond, opting instead to simply lie there, limp, waiting for her to finish.

A moment passed.

Another.

Finally she cocked her head to the side. "Nothing to say? No comment like last time?"

"No". His voice was dry and emotionless.

"Do you have a sense of humor at all?"

"No."

Her boot pushed harder. "I am the Governors daughter. I command you to laugh."

"Ha ha ha. Tee hee, tee hee." His voice still held that dry, emotionless tone.

She growled in frustration. "Fine. You lose the round, report back to base."

"Yes sir."

She removed her foot and he pulled himself to his feet. Picking up his lasgun, he gave her a stiff salute and made his way to leave.

The Naturals were so odd. So different from the Clones. As a Clone, he found this particular Natural so much odder than most.

It was a distraction. He wiped it from his mind and made his way to announce his loss.


	2. Chapter 2

Live fire exercise.

Live body exercise.

Krieg as not a world easily assaulted. This didn't stop heretics from trying. One particular band of traitors had attacked Krieg not a month before. They had been soundly defeated, but they still persisted on the surface. Outsiders might say it was because they were deceptive, persistent. Fools might say the Korps couldn't catch them. All lies.

They lived because Krieg allowed them to.

Training was no substitute for the real thing.

He was standing on the blasted area of what used to be an habitation block. Krieg had been all but destroyed all those years ago, yet some relics of a bygone era had remained.

Krieg had found a way to survive.

He heard a noise, like that of a person trying to be stealthy, but not doing a very good job. He turned, very slowly, his eyes seeing everything, his ears reacting to even the smallest noise. Thats when he saw him, coming from around a corner, all attempts at subtlety gone.

He was bare chested, his lower body covered in rags. A twisted mask with bright blue lights covered his face and as he charged he raised a twisted rusted axe like weapon, screaming "BLOOD FOR THE BLOO-"

 _TZZZZHHK!_

The mask was blasted to pieces and the heretics crumpled to the ground, seared flesh and exposed, burned bone welded to metal his reward. The Krieger lowered his lasgun., staring for a moment at the twitching body. Is this what the Ruinous Powers did? Making you cut yourself, mutilate your body, shout blasphemous sayings and run, half nude, running into a radioactive wasteland? How did they even survive on the surface? The masks they wore might help, but...it must be part of their Heresy.

He could not understand. Was it because he was Womb-Born Was it something only Naturals understood?

Was that the reason for her actions?

Her father had been the replacement for the former Lord General. It was a temporary situation, held only until the former Lord was finished purging the Seswenna system that was so close to Krieg, and so vital to the sector. It had been a year now and it was rumored that the new Lord General would perhaps become permanent. It was uncomfortable, outsiders ruling Krieg. But they would adapt.

The thought that she was corrupted was not a pleasing one. It had to be something else.

But what?

What could it possi-

"Raggghh!"

He turned at the last moment to be knocked to the ground by a hand as big as his face-mask. Another of the heretics, this one bigger, far more powerful, covered in scars and blood...and backed up by five more.

It was a shame really.

The big heretic tried swiping at him. If it had connected it would have carved open his midsection. But it did not connect, meeting only air as he leaped back, firing three shots right into the heretic face. The heretic let loose a horrid scream before falling to the ground. His allies did not pause, letting out a war cry and charging toward the Krieger. He turned and ran, putting just enough distance between them before turning yet again, falling to the ground and aiming. Two shots put one down, one shot, more precise, put another down. The last three, far warier now, began to surround him. Slobber dripped from their mouths as their bodies shook, mouths turned either to sneers or muttering maledictions to their "gods'.

At the end of his lasgun was a bayonet. He wondered idly if he would have to use it.

 _TZZZK! TZZZZZK! TZZZZZZK!_

All bodies dropped to the ground as lasbolts came from nowhere. They died slowly, twitching and desperately trying to crawl away.

Confused, the Krieger searched for his benefactor.

It was her.

She came toward him, clad as he was, carrying a similar lasgun. "I'm sorry, did I still your kills?" Her voice was distorted by the face-mask.

He didn't answer, instead, he stared at her for a very, very, very long time. She stood before him, her head cocked in that peculiar way.

Finally, he moved to one of the moaning heretics and plunged his bayonet through his skull.

"I know you can speak. Surely you have something to say?"

He moved to the next one, placing his boot on the man's chest before removing his throat with the bayonet.

"The strong, silent type. Usually I like that, but it seems that's the only kind of male on this planet. Don't you Kriegers ever smile? Or laugh? Or...I don't know...show emotion?"

He moved to the last one, firing a shot that burned away the mans skull, before looking quizzically at her. Then he raised his lasgun at her and fired.


	3. Chapter 3

His lasbolt struck her attacker in his shoulder as it whizzed past her , close enough that hair would have singed.

She turned as in reflex, the butt of her lasgun landing square on the heretics face, smashing his face mask and dazing him. With a roar the heretic tried to raise his blade, but a punch from her knocked him back yet again, right before she brought her lasgun up and burned away his face, head and neck.

The Krieger searched for more attacker but he could spot none. He gestured in her direction and pointed back in the way she had come.

"Any more that way? No, they're all dead. Thanks by the way." She kicked away the body of the dead heretic and walked over to him. "Guess I owe you a bottle of Amasec."

He just looked at her, then jerked his thumb in the direction he had come from. He turned and began to leave.

With a sigh, she made to follow him.


End file.
